


blue and black

by Blackwidowislyfe



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Anorexia, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Autism, Bed-Wetting, Bipolar Disorder, Body Shaming, Bulimia, Drag Queens, Eating Disorders, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Ethan has issues, Ethan needs a hug, Fat Shaming, Flashbacks, Gen, Gender Issues, Genderqueer Character, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt Ethan, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, I'm not sure what to call it, I'm sleepy and will fix these tags in the morning, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Makeup, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Possible Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pride, Religion, Self-Harm, Sibling Abuse, Slut Shaming, Stream of Consciousness, The Author Has Issues, Verbal Abuse, Vomiting, boys in makeup, but i will tag just in case, can disability be used to justify abusive tendencies and behaviors?, does this count as PTSD?, i'm gonna tag just to be safe, if you are easily triggered PLEASE sit this one out, religion used to bully someone, religious based homophobia, this is something I am struggling with, this work explores these themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackwidowislyfe/pseuds/Blackwidowislyfe
Summary: What happens in a child's early years is what they take with them through their lives. Funny, Ethan didn't think he would take so much hurt with him. Even after all this time he still can't find the right words for what happened. Or maybe he can, but to say them out loud means it's true...ORThe author was having a bad life and couldn't stop herself anymore. HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS! If you are easily triggered by abusive themes or actions, THIS IS NOT THE WORK FOR YOU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay. Um, hi. So, fun fact: My brother, while disabled, has anger issues. anger issues he has taken out on my family for most of my life. But... I can't seem to determine if what he does counts as abuse. So I took my problems out on fanfic instead. heh.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: absolutely NONE of this is true. This is not meant to disrespect Ethan, his family, or anyone related to him. This is simply me trying to sort through my feelings the only way I seem to know how.
> 
> WARNINGS: suggestive situations of childhood/past/verbal/physical abuse. Most of what happens in this fic is based LOOSELY around situations I have encountered while growing up. Like I said, my brother has autism, bipolar disorder, and extreme anger issues. I... I can't tell anymore if what he has done to me and my family is abuse or not, simply because of the fact that he is disabled. If... if I'm not the only one to go through this... just tell me?

He was five the first time his brother hurt him. Actually, if he was more accurate, he beat him up. Mommy had put bandaids on his owies and makeup on the bruises. Bubby was just being really weird. He also thought he was superman and tried to jump through the sliding door in their apartment. Bubby wasn’t trying to be mean… right?

 

* * * *

 

They called it Bipolar disorder. Mommy felt like that wasn’t the right word, but then again she was busy trying to take care of Bubby. Ethan didn’t mind though. It left him more time to play. Except for when Bubby bothered him. Which wasn’t too often. He was more interested in weird stuff, like cutting up paper. Why was Bubby into that? It didn’t make sense to Ethan, but then again nothing Bubby did really made sense, so Ethan just kept chugging along.

 

* * * *

 

Mommy came home crying. Bubby had gone with her but he didn’t come home. They said a new word: Autism. Oh…

 

* * * *

 

Video Games were a nice escape. They gave him a chance to take out his emotions on something, vent his frustrations and the abandonment he was feeling. Youtubing it helped too. Gave him a release.

 

And then one day it changed in a way Ethan could never have imagined…

 

* * * *

 

Your twenties were supposed to be the prime of your life. Ethan was just grateful to be out from under his parents control and away from his violent brother. Mom had been trying to work with the doctors on getting his temper under control but most of the time his brother was downright violent and borderline abusive. LA was a chance to get away from it all. To be the person he knew he could be if he just had the chance…

 

Mark was nice. He didn’t ask about why Ethan wore long sleeves in the eighty-degree heat that was LA. He didn’t question why Ethan jumped at loud noises or cowered in fear whenever someone raised their hand if they were too close. He… he was patient with Ethan. Tyler… observed. Tyler made Ethan nervous and he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was his quiet nature. Quiet people could hurt you the deepest after all. So Ethan kept his distance and just focused on work. Which was a good enough distraction seeing how much of it there was.

 

* * * *

 

A few days after the craziness that was releasing “A date with Markiplier,” it got bad. Tyler had maybe been drinking (Ethan didn’t know, he didn’t ask, but his aura had the faintest smell of wine), and he sank onto the couch beside Ethan. The blue-haired boy curled into a ball, scooting farther away. Tyler frowned, moving closer. Ethan scooted away again, this time at the edge of the sofa.

 

“Why’re you so tense?” Tyler asked.

 

“Cuz,” Ethan whispered, unsure if Tyler even heard.

 

“You… you look uncomfortable,” Tyler pointed out. 

 

“I-I’m fine, okay? I was just on my way to bed anyhow,” Ethan quickly said, voice trembling, getting off the couch and sprinting upstairs to his room. He quickly shut and locked the door, a luxury he never had back home. If he had been able to lock the door, maybe then he wouldn’t have been beaten up so much. 

 

His heart was racing and his breath was shallow. He tried to calm down, taking out his old baby blanket. It was one of the few things from his childhood that hadn’t been tainted by his brother and his disabilities. Maybe he was too old for the old comfort object but sometimes you just needed stupid things, especially in dire situations. He settled into bed, pulling up his laptop to try and watch some of the videos that usually calmed him down. That’s how he fell asleep.

 

* * * *

 

It was always stupid shit that set him into a panic. A smell that reminded him. A song that brought back a memory. Tonight Ethan wasn’t even sure what it was but somehow he had gotten set off. He got up to get snacks, trying to distract himself. but Tyler had seen the distraught look in his eyes, following behind, just to make sure he was okay. He was too quiet though, and scared Ethan. In an instant, the boy was on the floor, his arms trying to cover his head.

 

“Stop!” Ethan begged, tears in his eyes. Tyler looked down, seeing his blue boy trembling, cowering in fear. Tyler’s eyes widened and he backed out of the room, slowly, with his hands where Ethan could easily see them.

 

“I’m sorry,” He murmured, before leaving completely. Ethan gasped for breath, sobbing hard. How had he let himself get so comfortable with Tyler? Let his walls fall down? The very thing that had kept him safe, kept him from letting anyone see the shame of his brother and what he had done to Ethan. It was all laid bare now and how was he supposed to explain how fucked up his life was to Tyler?!

 

“Ethan.” It was Mark. Mark knew. Or at least knew enough. He was always conscious of Ethan’s triggers, tried not to invade his bubble. Knew at least why he liked his space and privacy. “Hey, it’s okay, just breathe.” Just breathe… how many times had he told himself that lie?

 

* * * *

 

_ “Stop!” Ethan begged. But his brother wouldn’t, kept coming, hand raised. Then he hit, and he hit HARD. Left a mark on the side of his face. Mom had come in, tried to pull his brother off of him but it didn’t work. She managed to wrestle a pill into his mouth, which at least gave Ethan enough time to run. He heard his brother screaming, fighting with his dad. Ethan cried, just wishing for it to be over, to stop, for some deity he wasn’t sure he believed in to just make it end… _

 

* * * *

 

There were pancakes on the table, along with a small note that read, “can we talk?” Ethan took a shaky breath. He wasn’t sure he was ready. Wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone to really know the truth, how fucked up his life was. But… Tyler seemed different. He hadn’t pushed, hadn’t asked questions.

 

“Ethan?” Mark’s voice. “You know he doesn’t just do that for anyone.”

 

“Yeah,” Ethan whispered. 

 

“He’s not gonna do anything to you that anyone else has,” Mark added. “He’s not like that. He’s genuine.”

 

“It doesn’t make it any easier,” Ethan said, a bit louder this time. “It kinda got conditioned into me. To not tell people. To keep the pain a secret.”

 

“You don’t have to do that here. You know that, right? We wanna support you,” Mark reminded him. Ethan shrugged.

 

* * * *

 

“Give me the bottle Ethan,” Tyler said firmly.

 

“You’re not my parent! You can’t tell me what to do!” Ethan sneered. “You don’t know what it’s like Tyler.”

 

“...Then tell me,” The older of the two said, sitting cross legged across from Ethan. Ethan glared at Tyler before shrugging, taking another swig from the bottle.

 

“My brother hurt me,” Ethan muttered.

 

“How?” Tyler encouraged.

 

“Every way possible,” Ethan shrugged. “Emotionally. He would scream and scream and my mom wouldn’t be able to stop it. He would degrade me, call me names or diss my stuff or what I liked. Physically. I used to be a punching bag for him. My mom would get mad when I tried to hit back though.”

 

“You couldn’t defend yourself?” Tyler asked.

 

“No. She said if I hit back then I was no better than him and that I was older so I had to set the example,” Ethan said, disgust filling his voice. “I never felt safe at home. Cuz if any of us did the least thing wrong my brother would blow up into a rage.” 

 

“So your brother held you hostage basically,” Tyler summarized. Ethan nodded, taking an especially hard pull from the bottle. Tyler gently loosened Ethan’s hold on it, taking it away. He expected a fight, but he got no resistance.

 

“The hardest part was that she was never there for me, when I needed her. He always took over, was more important,” Ethan mumbled, his eyes misty. “Not even when I needed her most was she there Tyler. And by the time she figured it out…” Ethan stopped. He wasn’t sure why his walls were down, but he rolled up his left sleeve. His scars were lain bare, clearly visible. Tyler placed a hand over his mouth.

 

“Why?” He asked.

 

“Tried to end it. Had no one, not even friends. The ones I made, I never let them meet my brother. Once they did, they left. And he was in and out of the hospital so much with physical health issues too. You don’t get it. He was a fucking LEECH Tyler!”

 

“You’re right, I don’t,” Tyler admitted, scooting closer to Ethan. When the boy made no negative reaction, he took Ethan’s hand, gently holding it. “Because I was the leech kid. I was sick from the get go. I was in and out of the hospital. I was the one constantly taking my parents away from my brother.”

 

Ethan looked up at Tyler, tears running down his cheeks. “It was so hard Tyler!” he cried. “He did all these horrible things to me, and I couldn’t hate him for it because he was disabled! He took my mom, he took my childhood, he took my sense of safety! He took so much from me and I’ll never get it back!” At that point the tears were in full force and Ethan was yelling, unable  to hold it back anymore. Tyler sat, listening. And then he did the one thing Ethan had never expected; he hugged him. Hugged him tight and held him as he let it all out. Let go of the pain and torment of holding it inside for so long.

 

Finally, when the tears were gone and his sobs had turned to soft hiccups, Ethan looked up at Tyler, finally aware that the older man hadn’t left. He hadn’t judged him or used the information against him. For once he was allowed to just be. “You must think I’m disgusting,” He whispered hoarsely.

 

“I couldn’t if I tried,” Tyler murmured. “That felt like the fifteen years of pain it was. You were strong for as long as you could be, but sometimes you just have to let it out of you.” Ethan nuzzled deeper against Tyler, trying to let those words sink in.

 

* * * *

 

Over the next few days, Ethan didn’t censor himself. When something reminded him of his brother, he said so. When he felt triggered, he said it. And the scary part was, the people around him understood. Mark would smile and nod, taking it in stride. He would quickly move on, not dwelling on whatever nerve was hit. If it was a song, he turned it off. If it was a TV show, he changed the channel. But… no one cared. They picked up and moved on and it was the weirdest thing ever. What was even weirder was how Tyler always took his hand after, and it became a grounding method. So much so that when he got off a bad skype call (his brother had ended up screaming and his dad had needed to hang up prematurely), he didn’t even think before he headed down the hall, knocking on Tyler’s door. As soon as it was open he dove into the older male’s chest, tears in his eyes.

 

Tyler didn’t question it, simply picked his small blue boy up, laying on the bed with him, grounding him until he was ready to come back, to deal with the world.

 

“One time… one time he started screaming in the middle of the store,” Ethan whispered. “It was always in the store and people would stare. It would be over the stupidest shit Tyler, like not getting his way or my mom told him no. I can’t tell you how many times I was the one who had to make sacrifices so HE would shut up.”

 

“That sounds really fucking hard,” Tyler said, placing a gentle kiss on Ethan’s forehead.

 

“Or the time he came at my dad with a knife,” Ethan whispered. “Why my mom didn’t call the police that day I don’t know.”

 

“She was scared,” Tyler mused. “She knew if she called the police she might lose you too. No one wants their family torn apart, even when it already is.” Ethan blinked. He hadn’t thought about it that way before. But… maybe Tyler had a point? “Hey, it isn’t your fault.”

  
“Sometimes it feels like it is,” Ethan whispered. Tyler hugged him. That, right there, was what he would fight for. always.


	2. 5 times Ethan was triggered (and the one time he wasn't)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We delve deeper into (my) triggers and why I am the way I am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important stuff first. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Graphic depictions of self-harm, homosexual slurs, past abuse, bedwetting (it's brief, I swear), homophobia, flashbacks, anxiety attacks, and vomiting. I THINK that's it. But damn that list is long.
> 
> Okay. So. The response on the first chapter is.... wow. thank you. Um, this one delves a bit deeper into my childhood and recent years. Mostly things that just... trigger me. things that are forever ruined because of my brother and the way he is. Things I'm scared to admit out loud. This is probably just a mess but I did this instead of actually doing something stupid. So maybe it works? I don't know guys...

0: the relapse.

The urges usually came with triggers. Tyler had been helping some, but sometimes… sometimes pain just seemed like the right answer. Ethan wasn’t sure why they had blades in the kitchen but right now he didn’t care. Over, and over. FML. FML. tears blurred his vision but still he kept going. FML. FML.

 

“Ethan!” Oh no. Someone found him. Then again he was on the floor in the kitchen. It would be stupid to think they wouldn’t. “Ethan… oh Ethan.”

 

“M’sorry,” He whimpered, scrubbing at his eyes with the non-bloodied arm, dropping the blade. Tyler quickly took it, scooping up his precious blue boy and taking him out to the living room. Mark stood up, eyes widening when he saw what had happened. Everything was kind of fuzzy, as it usually was after he cut. Tyler bandaged him up. It itched. He didn’t care. He felt numb, for the first time in a while, the voices in his head just shut up.

 

* * * *

 

“I don’t even know why Tyler,” Ethan sighed. He had been sandwiched between Mark and Tyler for almost an hour, the three of them crammed into Mark’s bed because they were worried to leave their blue boy alone. “Just… depression I guess. I started thinking about stupid shit that didn’t matter now that I’m here but it just...”

 

“Got out of control?” Tyler guessed. Ethan nodded, nuzzling closer to his curly-haired friend. Tyler was always so warm, something he longed for. “Next time find us, okay?” Ethan shrugged. He was hoping there wouldn’t be a next time.

  
  


1: Smells.

Ethan was still in long sleeves for a while. The fans hadn’t said much, but they saw a lack of shine in his eyes, and the comments, while few and far between, were there. Asking if he was sleeping, eating. They said that if he needed a break they would understand, that he had to take care of himself.

 

He was sitting in Tyler’s room while the older of the pair got ready for something Mark was doing (He wasn’t sure why Mark was taking Tyler, but then again sometimes it was just better not to ask with Mark). He was just casually scrolling through Tumblr when the smell hit him and he started gagging.

 

“What the fuck is that smell?” Ethan asked.

 

“I just put on some cologne,” Tyler said, turning around with the offending red canister in his hand. Ethan all but choked, trying not to hurl at the memory of that smell, mixed with other, far less pleasant smells suffocated him in the living room of his childhood home and oh God why couldn’t he breathe and tears and-

 

“Hey, hey look at me Eth, look at me,” Tyler murmured, taking Ethan’s shaky hands. “Your brother?”

 

“You don’t even know how much,” Ethan cried, unable to stop the pathetic tears. Tyler nodded, as if that justified everything. It didn’t not in the slightest. It just made it worse, made him all the more fucked up and wish Mark hadn’t locked all the blades in his closet.

 

“I’m gonna go scrub this off. Are you safe in here alone or do you need to come with?” Tyler asked. Ethan shrugged, honestly unsure. “Okay, that’s fine. But can you promise me you’ll be safe in here?” Ethan nodded. He knew not to break a glass and pick up the shards if that was what Tyler wanted to know. 

 

* * * *

 

“He… he has physical health issues too,” Ethan told Tyler that night, when they were sandwiched on his bed watching something on Netflix. “He… he was kind of incontinent.”

 

“He was what?” Tyler asked.

 

“...he shit his pants, and he couldn’t help it,” Ethan said, deciding he was past the point of gingerly dancing around the subject. He was twenty, he could use whatever damn words he wanted. “But… cuz of the mental stuff, he didn’t always listen when my mom prodded him to go change, so… A-and then he would try and cover it with Axe bodyspray or that stupid Old Spice stuff to the point where you would gag at the mix of the smell if you were too close to him or he sat near you.” Tyler hugged him closer.

 

“I’m glad you told me,” He said softly, and that was that and they went back to their movie. The next day, the red canister of man-perfume made it’s way into the trash, and no one was any the wiser.

 

2: Sounds

Rage games went to Kathryn or Amy for the sole reason of Ethan had been having a few too many panic attacks lately. Tyler was worried, Mark was worried, even the girls were worried. Kathryn had been bringing Ethan little homemade goodies. Some cookies, a brownie. They were always placed on his desk, with a small pat to the head and then Ethan would smile up at her. “Good food usually helps,” was all she said. It made her feel like she was helping, so he let her. Even if most of the time he just sat, lost in his own mind, it made Kathryn feel like she was contributing.

 

Amy’s approach was different. She always asked, but she would take to hugging him, petting his hair, holding him. It was as if she was trying to pump as much sunshine and positivity into Ethan through touch. He wasn’t completely touch-starved, and if he was, it was his own choice. But again, it let Amy feel like she was helping. He wasn’t about to deny them that feeling.

 

* * * *

 

Ethan was in the middle of trying to Edit, when there was a loud crash, followed by a string of very loud expletives. All at once he was hyperventilating, under his desk.  _ Just breathe just breathe oh God just keep breathing, _ He thought to himself. No one seemed to notice him until after whatever the hell was going on was fixed, and he was still shaky, still struggling to breathe. He hated loud, sudden noises. They usually left him feeling like something would go wrong, that he would get hurt. Loud noises had always meant he would get hurt. 

 

Tyler was the one who found him. It was always Tyler, if he thought about it. Not that Ethan really minded. He gently helped Ethan up, settled him down on the couch. They wrapped up in blankets and Kathryn sat beside him, Amy and Chica at his feet. Ethan just tried to breathe, ending up asleep before he was calm. Then again, maybe that was for the better...

  
  


3: Space

The fans were always so nice to film with. Ethan wasn’t completely sure what they were doing, but it was always nice to get outside and enjoy the fresh air. Maybe he needed to do it more often. Either way they were all divided up into teams (which would rotate), and Ethan got a rather shy looking girl. She didn’t look much older than 17, braces and glasses and long, curly brown hair.

 

They ended up winning the game though. 

 

They cheered, high fiving, and then she hugged him suddenly. Ethan wasn’t prepared for that and gasped, tensing every muscle he could, preparing for the screaming, for the pain, for the tears and then she was stepping back and she knew, oh God she-

 

“You get them too? Oh God I’m so stupid, I should have asked,” She whispered. Ethan tried to blink back the tears.

 

“Hey, focus on us,” Another girl said. “Do you know how to ground yourself?” Ethan shook his head, his hands shaking. The next thirty minutes were spent with everyone grounding with Ethan, video be damned. Funny thing was, almost everyone there had had something of a similar experience.

 

“My Dad,” One girl said, “Would get blackout drunk and start swinging.”

 

“My mom would scream for hours,” Another girl said. 

 

“My boyfriend,” was all another girl said, but somehow it was enough. Somewhere in the middle of it Ethan got hot and his sleeves were rolled up and despite the still very red scars, no one cared. It was the most tragic yet simultaneously hopeful day Ethan had had in a long time.

 

“You’re not weak you know,” One of them finally said. “I could tell on your face that you thought you were. But Mark was your out, wasn’t he? You already beat the hardest odds. The rest just takes time. Some of it goes away, other parts stay with you forever. It’s a daily battle and a process. But it’s how you choose to fight it that matters.”

 

“...this is gonna sound bad, but I really thought i was the only one,” Ethan admitted. “....It was my brother. But… he was disabled. I don’t think it counts if he-”

 

“No, it absolutely counts,” Someone said. “He may not be able to help his disability, but it does not mean he can get away with hurting you on purpose. If small children can be taught not to hurt people, so can he.” Ethan wanted to believe that… but like everyone had said, sometimes things just take time. Maybe admitting his brother was abusive was just one of those things.

 

4: TV

Ethan had been trying more of the grounding that he and the group of girls had worked on. It didn’t always work, but they did say it took practice. He also had spent time doing a thing called “mindfulness exercises.” Again, it took practice, but they helped more than they didn’t. 

 

Things still blindsided him though.

 

Like when he walked into the office and everyone was watching ET memes and for some reason it made Ethan puke. Like what the actual fuck. He hadn’t seen that movie since his brother binged it for two months when they were kids.

 

“Shit, forgot that was on the list,” Mark muttered, quickly flicking off the TV. 

 

“You keep a list?” Ethan whined. Mark blushed and that told Ethan everything he needed to know. To be fair, it was only half of a page, and sat in the bottom of the bottom drawer of Mark’s desk. But the fact remained that Ethan was enough of a flight risk that it was needed made him feel ten times worse. And then he puked a second time.

 

* * * * 

 

To be fair, it was probably the stomach flu that made Ethan puke. He did spend the next three days in bed for that fact too. But the fact that Mark kept a list… bugged him. He wasn’t a baby. He was tough. He could handle shit. You know what? He would prove it. He managed to slink downstairs to the sofa. Everyone else was at the office anyways, avoiding him like the plague because the stomach flu was a bitch. Chica came up, snuggling beside him on the couch as he started up Netflix. He would show everyone he wasn’t a fucking weakling.

 

* * * *

 

Tyler was in the middle of trying to decide what to do when his phone rang. It was Ethan. Fuck. “Yello?” He said, trying to sound calm and not like he was worried that Ethan was dying or some stupid shit.

 

“T-Ty?” Ethan croaked. “C-can you come home?”

 

“Yeah. what’s wrong?” Tyler asked, already shoving things into his bag.

 

“I… I did something dumb,” Ethan sniffled. “Tried to watch shit.”

 

“I’m on my way, I’ll be there in… twenty? Are you okay for me to hang up or do you need me to keep talking to you?”

 

“...just hurry,” Ethan begged. Tyler looked to Mark, who nodded.

 

* * * *

 

When Tyler walked in, he found Ethan on the couch, curled around Chica. He prepared for the worst, but was just met with tears and a whiny puppo.

 

“Why’m’ I broke Tyler?” Ethan sniffled, nose clogged. “Can’ eben watch stupid moobies.”

 

“Hey, you’re not broke, you’re fever-ridden and sick,” Tyler encouraged. “When was the last time you took advil?” Ethan shrugged. Tyler sighed. So he was going to play nurse. Okay then, worse roles were to be had he supposed.

 

5: Religion

_ “Traitor,” the void hissed. _

 

_ “Faggot.” “Abomination.” “Pansy.” “Failure.” _

 

_ “STOP!” Ethan screamed. All the words floated around him, before encircling his arm. Then they seared into his skin, the pain scorching hot and searing against him. “Burn, burn, burn…” _

 

* * * *

 

Ethan sat up, sobbing and shaking and coughing. Those were the words everyone kept screaming at him, after he came out. His own family had shouted a few of them. Why did the universe hate him? And why… was he wet? Oh no.

 

He nervously peeled the blankets back and yup,  _ that _ happened. It only happened on really bad nights. Nights when he was either dead to the world, or the nightmares were too much. Naturally, that was the moment Tyler walked in to check on him. And find him sitting in his own piss, shaking and teary and oh God why was he such a fucking trainwreck? “I’m sorry,” was all he could say.

 

“You don’t need to-”

 

“Yes I do Tyler! I’m fucking disgusting!” Ethan said, voice rising. “God, you don’t get it! I’m a failure. Mark has a fucking list of all the things that I can’t handle because I’m messed up! And this…” He gestured towards the bed, “Just takes the cake! I’m a disgusting failure Tyler! I-” Tyler cut him off with a kiss. It was gentle, it was sweet, and it was short. Ethan sat there, dazed, for once unable to do or say anything except let the tears roll down his cheeks.

 

“You’re not any of those things, Ethan Nestor,” Tyler said firmly. “You fight a daily battle, a lot harder than any of us can even begin to imagine. Watching you try breaks my heart, because no human should have to face the uphill battle you do. Yet you go at it full force, smiles and laughter abound and… and it’s amazing to watch you thrive.”

 

“...You mean that?” Ethan whispered, unsure if he could trust his voice. Unsure if he wasn’t just in some sort of fever dream and he would wake up any second and this would all be yanked from him, just like every other good thing in his life.

 

“Every last word,” Tyler said, gently tugging Ethan up onto his feet. “You go shower, okay? I’ve got this.”

 

“You don’t have to-”

 

“I know. But I want to take care of you, okay? Let me take care of you,” Tyler begged. Ethan nodded reluctantly. “Good.”

 

* * * *

 

Ethan finished showering, finding new pajamas lying on the sink top counter. Tyler was… an angel. Ethan wasn’t sure he believed in God, but angels seemed plausible. He quickly dressed, assessing his cuts. They were still pretty red, but they didn’t sting and itch anymore, which was a start he supposed. He slowly ambled down the hall towards his room, finding his bed completely remade. He stopped for a minute, thinking about it, before he turned and made his way down the hall, knocking on Tyler’s door yet again. The curly haired man was there in an instant, eyes softening and a smile blossoming across his face when he saw Ethan.

 

“Can I sleep with you?” He asked. Tyler nodded, leading the small boy into his room settling them into his bed. It was quiet, the only sound either of them could hear was their breathing and Mark snoring. At least until Ethan finally said, “I had a nightmare.”

 

“Kinda figured,” Tyler shrugged.

 

“I gotta ask, why did you come into my room? Was I that loud?” Ethan wondered aloud.

 

“Kind of. I… it’s stupid, but I check on you during the night. Just to make sure you’re okay,” Tyler said. “I worry about you a lot Ethan.”

 

“...Thanks,” The blue boy whispered. “...Can I tell you a secret?”

 

“Anything,” Tyler urged.

 

“...I’m gay.” Tyler smiled, pulling his blue boy closer. “That’s what my nightmare was about. All the horrible names people have called me… my parents hate me for it. They think I’ve damned myself to hell.”

 

“....Can I just say that’s the stupidest bullshit ever?” Tyler murmured. “I’m pansexual and my parents are Christian and they accept me the way I am.”

 

“Mine are Catholic,” Ethan sighed, as if that explained everything. Which, to be fair, kind of did.

 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Tyler asked.

 

“Yeah,” Ethan yawned, finally unwound and sleepy. 

 

“I think I have a crush on you,” Tyler whispered, placing a kiss to Ethan’s forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

 

* * * *

 

Mark smiled at the sight before him. Ethan was asleep, Tyler curled around him, as if to protect him at all costs. Mark silently snapped a picture and sent it to amy, who texted back like, a million hearts. 

 

+1: Healing (or at least the start of it)

“Ty?” Ethan asked as he readied himself for therapy.

 

“Yeah Eth?” Tyler answered, paying more attention to his phone than his maybe-boyfriend.

 

“....Nothing has to change, right?” Ethan asked. “Like… since we’re kind of… kind of…”

 

“Dating?” Tyler finished. “No, nothing really has to change. We just… do what feels right. And if it ever stops feeling right, we’ll assess and come to a conclusion.”

 

“Way to make dating sound so scientific,” Ethan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. Tyler smiled, hugging his boyfriend.

 

“Love you too blueberry,” He chuckled.

 

* * * *

 

Why Mark had insisted on coming with to therapy, Ethan had no clue. He was literally going to just sit in the waiting room for an hour with Tyler. But still, he came. 

 

“For moral support,” He claimed. Really, he just wanted to clarify with Tyler what was up. Ethan didn’t care, he spent most of that session in tears anyways. Something Tyler picked up on when he walked out. He hopped up instantly, Mark right beside him, making the blue boy blush. He said goodbye to his therapist and walked over to his friends, Tyler taking his hand.

 

“Let’s get food, I’m hungry,” Mark declared, steering them out the door and into the elevator. Ethan never let go of Tyler’s hand. It was the one thing that kept him sane.

 

* * * *

 

“Hey Mark?” Ethan said, once they were finished gorging themselves on pizza.

 

“ ‘sup blue?” Mark asked, still chewing the last bit of pizza crust.

 

“...Tyler and I are dating,” Ethan said, immediately hiding inside of Tyler. If nothing else, the taller man would protect him from most of the blows. But when none came, he hesitantly looked up, seeing Tyler smiling at him, and then was met with a beaming Mark.

  
“Good. About time you two stopped pining and got with it,” Mark said happily. And that was that. Huh. Maybe… Maybe he could be himself. Maybe things would get better. Maybe, maybe, maybe…


	3. Emily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 situations Ethan encountered that Tyler made better (and the one they encountered together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. More stupid shit that I went through that I was trying to process. Also literally everything in italics (plus the situation under 0) is a real situation I actually encountered growing up/in the past few years. I am dead serious. But as always:
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is not meant to disrespect Ethan, his family, or anyone related to him. This is simply me trying to sort through my feelings/past trauma(?) the only way I seem to be capable of.
> 
> WARNINGS: Deliberate, religious-based, and explicit homophobia; harrassment/verbal abuse (from both parents and siblings, AGAIN); shaming of self-expression; fat-shaming/body image issues and IMPLIED eating disorder; graphic depictions of almost-purging (bulimia style; God that sounds bad but yeah); gender-related issues. I think that covers it but if you see an additional warning that needs to be added PLEASE let me know in the comments. I will gladly add it because being triggered sucks. We all good? good.

0.

June 26, 2015. The day Gay marriage was legalized in all 50 states. The day love won. The day Ethan didn’t have to mourn the loss of a wedding he had dreamed about as a child. The day he felt that lump of fear dissolve just a tiny bit. Maybe, if he was gay, now things would be just a tiny bit better.

 

And then his mom started to cry over it at the kitchen table. Like, actual tears. Then came the slurs, the damning, everything he knew he would get if he came out. But still, he listened to her patiently, silently, despite fuming inside at every last word that spilled from her lips. 

 

He did an art project that night. He may have been deeply closeted, and insecure. But this was something he could claim as his expression. His view. Where he was on that day…

 

1.

_ “Mom, you’re not listening,” Ethan said calmly. He always was, had to be, when they had these one sided arguments. Tonight it was about conversion “Therapy,” whether it should be covered by insurance, legal, or even exist. His mother, as always, said that there was nothing wrong with the “treatment” these places provided. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Fine, then I just won’t talk anymore,” She sneered, utterly giving up on any amount of reasonableness then and there. Ethan stomped off, into the grocery store and away from his mother. Good thing too, as his mother turned to his father and said, “he's damned himself to hell.” _ __   
  


* * * *

 

“Are we really about to go to pride wearing rainbow glitter war paint?” Ethan asked Tyler.

 

“To be fair, you look fucking hot in it,” Tyler said with a quick kiss, getting a gag from Mark in the backseat.

 

“We have successfully repulsed the resident ace,” Ethan giggled.

 

“Come on guys, Chica is antsy,” Mark said, hopping out of the car with Amy. The two interlocked hands, Mark’s asexual pride flag flowing like a cape from his shoulders. Ethan hoped he was that brave one day. All he had were some smears of color under his eyes and the same bracelet he had worn since he turned 18. Tyler had gone full face paint, Lipstick included. Where Amy and Kathryn had dug it up from, Ethan didn't know; but it was cute. Plus every time they kissed, it left a little more color on Ethan’s lips, which was nice.

 

But then the asshole protesters showed up, because of fucking course they did. Bible quotes adorned yellow and black signs damning him, and it was just like that night, with his mother all over again. His breathing picked up, and Tyler gently lead him away, towards the most secluded bench. It wasn’t much, but it still was something.

 

He held Ethan close, making sure no one bothered them. Kathryn came over holding water bottles for the three of them. Ethan took his, sipping slowly. It was hot, and he was pretty sure the tears from the panic attack had ruined his face paint. Oh well.

 

“Your Mom?” Tyler guessed. Ethan nodded, getting a rainbow kiss on his forehead. Kathryn smiled at the two. The rainbow mess that was Ethan’s face was too precious, something of a work of art. And watching it smear all over Tyler was too much adorableness.

 

* * * *

 

After the police shooed the protesters away and the parade began, Ethan’s mood lightened. There were some nice naked people, some pretty drag queens, but the fun began AFTER. When all the queer people found (and sort of) mobbed him and Mark and they ended up having an impromptu meet up at the only place big enough to hold the group: A McDonald’s. There were selfies and hugs and more glitter than Ethan had seen in his whole life. And it made him stop and think. If there were this many people like him, and of other orientations and gender identities, then how could there be a God (if there was one) that hated them all? How could he hate them, if he made this many?   
  


 

2.

_ “You don’t know what misogynist means and you’re stupid!” His brother sneered. “You fit the definition of stupid perfectly! You’re so stupid!” It only occurred to him later, after his mother had vaguely intervened, that the word his brother was looking for was probably liberal, or he was referring to the more “liberal” things Ethan had voiced an opinion and favor over. It still didn’t take away the sting. Or the fact that his own mother had told him being a feminist was an insult, especially for a guy. _

 

* * * *

 

“No! I fucking know how!” Ethan snapped, trying to put it together. Honestly how fucking hard was it for the fucking program to fucking work?!

 

“Maybe you should-”

 

“I’M NOT STUPID TYLER!” Ethan screamed, before the failure to load screen popped up. “FUCK THIS!” He shouted, throwing his headphones down and stomping upstairs. Tyler stood there, blindsided. He moved to turn off the computer. It wasn’t like Ethan to get that worked up over computer glitches. Lord knows the kid had dealt with them plenty of them over the years. He knew when to put it down but he had been at this literally ALL DAY. Tyler had barely pulled him away to put food in his body. He decided to give Ethan about fifteen minutes, and then go up to check on him.

 

* * * *

 

Tyler gently poked his head in, seeing Ethan on his bed, curled around a pillow and sobbing, muttering to himself.

 

“Eth? Hey,” Tyler murmured, sitting beside his boyfriend. “What’s going on? You don’t normally get that worked up over small things.”

 

“Cuz I’m- Fuck, one more fucking thing he did,” Ethan said, a bitter wet laugh as he tried to shove away the tears yet again. “My brother called me stupid a lot, and my dad constantly nit-picked my intelligence. A-and then when I would get a bad grade I would get a lecture about how I need to take things seriously. As if one or two bombed tests were the end of the world.”

 

“Remind me to never let you go home alone anymore,” Tyler said, half serious. “You’re not stupid because of the computer. I can’t tell you how many times Mark has lost his shit over his computer crashing. And I’m talking editing Dark took the fuck over and crashed it.” Ethan shrugged, leaning against Tyler. “You’re my smart blueberry.”

 

Ethan scoffed at the nickname. “I love how just because I’m small and have blue hair you and everyone else thinks I’m a fruit.”

 

“I mean, you’re just as sweet as one,” Tyler said, stealing a quick kiss. "Come on, let's see if we can't fix it together, okay?"

  
  


3.

_ “It’s extremely disrespectful of you,” His mother snapped. “How dare you not adopt the values we raised you with.” _

 

_ “I’m sorry, what?” Ethan asked. Did those words literally just come out of his mother’s mouth? All he had done was ask for help with understanding an article for the paper that was due in the morning, and he got this? _

 

_ “Your father and I raised you and for you to flat out reject our views is very hurtful.” _

 

_ “But I never said-” _

 

_ “I don’t want to hear it.” And with that, his mother and the only hope of understanding this article stomped out of the kitchen like a two year old. _

 

* * * *

 

“You’re a disrespectful piece of shit,” The homeless man slurred, spitting at Ethan. He bit his lip, but kept walking, even as the man shouted after him, “Hope ya fucking die you fuckin’ twink!” Ethan managed to at least make it around the corner before the tears completely blurred his vision. He set the groceries down on the ground, shaking as he tried to hold it together. But he just couldn’t. He quickly whipped out his phone, dialing the only person he trusted to see him like this.   
  
Within fifteen minutes, Tyler came jogging up, sweaty and a little gross, but welcome nonetheless. Ethan dove face first into Tyler’s chest, holding on for dear life.   
  
“Shh, I’m here babe,” Tyler murmured, not even completely sure what had happened, but rocking Ethan, determined to get them through this one too. When Ethan was slightly less emotional and only slightly shaky, he and Tyler picked up the groceries, taking them back to the house.   
  
“It was a homeless guy,” Ethan said as they took their time walking. “Said I was a twink and that he hoped I… that I died.” Tyler squeezed his hand. “It reminded me of some of the shit my mom said to me, sometimes. It’s stupid-”   
  
“No, it’s not. It’s harassment,” Tyler reminded him. “That shit’s not okay, even if you are a dude. No one should do that stuff.” Ethan shrugged. Maybe he did deserve it.

 

4.

_ “You’re disgusting. How could you ever expect anyone to love you when you’re into that?” _

 

_ “No one will ever love you if you keep doing this. How do you expect to be successful when you’re secretly into… THAT?!” _

 

_ *Sidenote: The IRL version I experienced was a bit more NSFW, but for the sake of this fic, we’re keeping it SFW. _

 

* * * *

 

It became a guilty pleasure, mostly because of the shame and shade he got thrown at him when he was younger. It probably wasn’t even that cringey, especially if tumblr (and his super secret side blog) were anything to go by. Still. He didn’t tell Tyler or Mark. He couldn’t handle it if they knew.

 

But naturally, when one lets their guard down enough, people find out things. Things you never wanted them to know. And naturally, they happen in the most embarrassing ways. For example: in the middle of doing your eyeliner, listening to whiny boybands when you think you’re home alone. He had Big Time Rush on, humming softly. Tyler was watching from the doorframe, trying to figure Eth out. He’d never seen Ethan in makeup before. The boy was always self conscious of how he looked, but… drag wasn't something he had expected. That was something Ethan apparently hadn’t felt comfortable to do in front of him. A shame though, since the kid looked damn fine in that ruby red lipstick.

 

But then he turned around, and Tyler saw a million emotions and experiences flash into his boyfriend’s eyes, all in the span of a few seconds before he quickly shut off the music, shaking and refusing to look at Tyler.

 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “It’s stupid, I know. You weren’t supposed to-”

 

“Shush,” Tyler said, placing his hands gently on Ethan’s shoulders. “You… you look amazing Eth.”

 

“No I don’t,” Ethan mumbled. “A-and I shouldn’t even be doing this. I-it’s stupid and-”

 

“Ethan,” Tyler said, instantly shushing his boyfriend. “It’s all fine. You can like whatever the hell you want, okay? I’m not gonna police or tease you for it.” Ethan bit his lip. “Come on, I’ll do anything to prove it.” Ethan looked away, blushing, but went over to his bed, grabbing something from underneath. It was a dress. Simple. Grey, but the cap sleeves were darker than the bodice. Ethan slipped it over his head. “Let’s go out.”

 

* * * *

 

They spent the night dancing at a club. Tyler never once hesitated to kiss his boyfriend, telling him how beautiful he was. They ended up down at the beach at some point, walking barefoot along the coast.

 

“Thank you,” Ethan finally said. “I… it’s stupid.”

 

“Nothing you could ever say is stupid Ethan,” Tyler urged, placing a kiss to his boyfriend’s hand. “Tell me.”

 

“...Everyone said it was stupid,” Ethan murmured, watching the waves. “I… drag was a nice change, you know? A chance to be someone other than myself. A chance to… to not be me. I hated me. I still kind of hate me. I was so small and wimpy and pathetic and…” He had to stop, tears running down his cheeks.

 

“Shh, you’re fine,” Tyler promised, wiping the tears away. “You’re perfect just the way you are Eth.” He stole a quick kiss, ending up with lipstick all over his lips. Ethan couldn’t stop the giggle at that. “What?”

 

“...you look good in red,” Ethan giggled. And damn, if Tyler wouldn’t give his soul to keep that smile on his boyfriend’s face. Hell, he’d wear makeup too.

 

However explaining why he had lipstick down his neck when he and Ethan stumbled into the house at 2 in the morning was less fun. Really, if Chica hadn’t barraged them they would have been fine.

 

“...Look, I don’t care what you two do, just try not to startle the dog,” Mark sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Tyler promised, and with that, the two proceeded to Tyler’s room. Ethan slept easy for the first time in a long time

  
  


5.

_ This one I can’t give a good context for within the universe. But… this one has to do with body shaming, Fat shaming, and slut shaming. Because I have had all three done to me throughout my childhood and teen years. To this day I have days where I hate my body. _

 

* * * *

 

For Ethan, what it came down to on bad days, were numbers. He knew he had to take in around 2,000 calories a day, no matter what. He needed to split that between three meals (ideally; some days he just binged it in one sitting of mac and cheese and ate like a bird afterwards. But he’d since moved past the worst of it). Usually once he got something inside his tummy, it felt a little bit less like everyone was staring at every scar, stretch mark, or bit of flab on his body.

 

But today was different. He just… couldn’t. He’d tried, but it didn’t help. Ethan had tricks for those kinds of days too.

 

Problem was that meant explaining to Tyler, which wasn’t fun. One more way his family had fucked him up. Mostly his grandmother, who had unrealistic expectations and standards on people. And his mother, who… well, the list was too long with her, but she fed into his insecurities. She’d spent so long telling him how he was “supposed” to act, to dress, how to express himself. How to exist.

 

“So you just want me to sit with you while you eat?” Tyler asked. Ethan nodded slowly. “Okay.”

 

“That’s it?” Ethan asked. “Y-you don’t want some long winded explanation on why I can’t do this by myself or why I am-”

 

“I know why,” Tyler said. “If it isn’t your brother, than someone else. Not only that but we all have bad days and we all have days where we need more help than other days. And that’s okay Ethan.” He needed to hear those words. To remember he wasn’t the only one who needed help. He’d seen Tyler on his harder days too. Days where he was reminded of how sick he once was, days where he worried if it was coming back from something silly. And Ethan was there the whole time, giving Tyler just as much support as he was getting in this moment. It soothed something inside of Ethan, to know that they both had each other, if no one else.

 

* * * * 

 

Unfortunately not everyone understood. Ethan couldn’t sit and eat lunch with everyone today. It just wasn’t happening. He felt like everyone was staring at him, and even though Tyler prodded him, he just couldn’t do it. So Tyler sat and ate while Ethan edited and Mark and Amy and Kathryn gave them concerned looks but still went out the park with Chica for a picnic.

 

“I just… can’t,” Ethan explained. “I’ll… it’s too… numbers.”

 

“How about we make a deal?” Tyler offered, pulling out his sandwich. “You take half and I’ll take half, okay? Not so many numbers that way.” Ethan hesitated, but took the half offered to him. It was good; Some of the leftover pot roast they had made, on the multigrain bread. Tyler put some of the avocado spread on there, with lots of field greens and tomato.

 

* * * *

 

Numbers became background as they settled in for movie night, Amy and Kathryn brought in the spread; (Ethan safe) Candy, the cookies, the bunny grahams, and of course, pizza and popcorn. Ethan admittedly hadn’t eaten much that day, and with the numbers not being forefront, he began eating. And eating, and eating. Three slices of pizza, a package of sour patch kids, half the box of Bunny Grahams. It didn’t upset his stomach. In hindsight that probably was because of the hunger that had been gnawing at him since lunch. Tea only did so much, after all.

 

Amy and Kathryn kept their mouths shut. Even if Ethan was eating a lot, it was reassuring, after today. Mark though? ... He was curious. Curiosity did kill the cat though.

 

“Got enough food there Ethan?” He said. It was light hearted. Honestly it was. He and Amy joked about food all the time. Hell, even he and Kathryn could joke about food and weight. It shouldn’t have made Tyler glare at him and Ethan’s face crumple.

 

“So what if I do?” Ethan shrugged, examining the popcorn piece in his hand.

 

“Aw come on fattie, lighten up,” Mark joked. Honestly it probably was a joke. Ethan probably should have laughed, shoved another huge handful of popcorn into his mouth, and let it die.

 

But how many times had he heard those words? How many times had he hated himself for even daring to eat one bite of anything remotely unhealthy? How many times had his grandmother insist he “lose a little around the middle?”

 

So no, it wasn’t taken as a joke. Tyler could see it in Ethan’s eyes, and damnit there was only one way to repair the sins of the food he had eaten. He managed a half-ass excuse and stumbled upstairs to the bathroom. He reached for his toothbrush, about to jam the handle of it into his throat before Tyler’s hand stopped him.

 

“Fucking let me!” Ethan snapped.

 

“Nope,” Tyler said, yanking it out his hand and carrying Ethan to his room, the blue boy thrashing and crying the whole nine yards.

 

* * * *

 

“Fuck Ty. I didn’t-”

 

“Exactly, you didn’t. You didn’t think, you just said the first thing that popped into your head and-”

 

“I’m sorry!” Fuck. He should really say something. Mark sounded close to tears. Mark was prone to tears when he was emotional. But… over Ethan and his fat ass? Ethan slowly opened his eyes, seeing Tyler’s shirt. Welp, nice to know he was so easy to cocoon in his boyfriend. His head hurt and his voice felt scratchy, but still. Words needed to happen.

 

“Eth?” Tyler murmured. How could he be so quiet and sweet? Especially with his fat ugly ass.

 

“Fuck Ethan I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-”

 

“Stop,” Ethan said and fuck his voice was shot. The fans were gonna freak out, if he could even record tomorrow. “It’s my fault. I-I should’ve-”

 

“No,” Tyler insisted. “You’re fine just-”

 

“I’m not!” Ethan insisted. “I’m fat and ugly. Always have been. Always will.”

 

“Do you really think that little of yourself?” Tyler asked, and fuck, now  _ he _ was near tears. “Ethan you’re beautiful. You’re my tiny beautiful blueberry and I- fuck I had no idea. You’re perfect. Inside and out. Scars and all.”

 

Ethan couldn’t stop the pathetic tears that sprung up. The three of them ended up in one giant, weepy cuddle puddle. 

 

* * * *

 

As the three of them lay in bed, surrounded by Chica and each other, Ethan finally piped up, “Will we ever be okay? Will I ever be okay?”

 

“Okay is a relative term,” Mark mused. “I think it depends on your definition. Will you ever get to a point where this shit doesn’t haunt you like a nightmare? Maybe. Will you ever not have bad days? Absolutely not. I still have bad days.”

 

“Me too,” Tyler added. “Bad days happen. It’s how you handle them that counts.”

 

“We sound like a cheesy soap opera,” Ethan snorted. “But I get it.”

 

“I really am sorry for what I said,” Mark added. “I had no idea it would set you off.”

 

“Is it bad to say that I didn’t know either? It was just… everything coming to a head at once. Between the food and you and everything that has happened… it just snowballed. But… thanks man.”

  
  


+1: Something new

 

“I like that dress,” Ethan piped up. It was soft, and if Tyler hadn’t been smiling down at his boyfriend, he probably wouldn’t have heard. But he looked at the dress in the shop window, and then at his boyfriend.

 

“Then why don’t we see how you look in it?”

 

* * * *

 

Ethan shook inside the fitting room. This was the first time in a long time that he had even been brave enough to try on “girl” clothes (as if clothes had gender, but then again his opinion was but a drop in the lake of society). It hit mid-thigh, and if he were a girl, his mother would have told him it was too short. As it stood, she would probably disown him if she saw him in this. Still, Tyler insisted on seeing it, so despite his better judgement, he hesitantly opened the door.

 

Tyler beamed at him. And for all of about five seconds, Ethan felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a freak trying on women’s clothes.

 

And then the illusion was shattered when someone walked past him, muttering the word “slut.”

 

How many times had he heard that? His mother telling him that he was dressing like one of those “fuckbois” and to go upstairs and dress like she raised him to. Tyler saw it in his face and, despite protests from the fitting room attendant, he pulled Ethan in for a kiss. 

 

“You’re not a slut,” He said loudly, or at least loud enough for the two bitches to hear. “No one gets to use that word on you unless you give them permission. You hear me?”

 

Ethan looked up, tearfully, and nodded, slinking back into the dressing room.

 

* * * *

 

In the end they left with the dress, and a necklace to go with it (Because Tyler said it would match and the girl behind the counter was eager), and they ended up at a coffee shop. Ethan was staring out the window, clearly deep in thought. Tyler walked up to the table with their drinks in hand, and really looked at his boyfriend. There was something… different about him today.

 

“Eth?” Tyler said, placing the mugs down- Tyler with the ridiculously sugary latte, and Ethan with a simple cup of coffee, black with a little milk. Ethan took a sip, sighed, and looked at Tyler.

 

“I think I should tell you something,” he said, his voice soft. Tyler nodded, placing his mug down, whipped cream on the very top of his nose and the laughter that sprang from Ethan was infectious. It was the kind of laughter that brought out a snort and made your belly hurt and was contagious. Tyler looked at his boyfriend, giggling as Ethan wiped the whipped cream from his nose.

 

“Okay, all that aside, what's on your mind?” Tyler prodded, reminding Ethan that he was about to do this. But Tyler was… He wasn't like anyone else.

 

Ethan took a big, deep breath, put his hands in his lap, and looked up into Tyler's gentle brown eyes. “I… I think I might be genderqueer,” he said softly. 

 

Tyler smiled. “I kind of already knew, and I support you one hundred percent,” he said, kissing Ethan(?) softly. Okay. It would be okay… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I may do another chapter, exploring my own... gender journey. God that makes it sound like some magical galavant down a yellow-brick road through a pixie forest. It isn't. But. Again, this seems to be the only way I can sort through things and it helps, so. Yeah. I love you guys and I will see you next time.

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably shit and I'm sorry. I just... my brother had a huge rage in the car on the way home from picking me up from work (my whole family was in the car). I couldn't hold this in anymore, okay?


End file.
